Wash Me – A Poem by Rowe Williams

In the morning 
and every night
I wash my brain
in antidepressant.

To take the edge off, you see.

I'm still not quite right
but it's been long enough
I don't remember what that's like.

The existence of antidepressants
indicates, in my mind,
the presupposition that presence

in this life is superior,
in some fashion, to whatever
comes after, clearly, or

that at least you should take
the devil you know.
So I wash when I sleep or wake.

And I ignore the ache.

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E-mail verifiablyhuman@gmail.com Hours ©2019 Rowe Williams
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